


HCs. Bound to Bend (incomplete thoughts, unedited)

by MilkyBabyBunny



Category: It - All Media Types
Genre: First Time, Glory Hole, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:51:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23843890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilkyBabyBunny/pseuds/MilkyBabyBunny
Summary: Kinktober prompt: gloryhole
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	HCs. Bound to Bend (incomplete thoughts, unedited)

I have this image (I know I know it’s a trope, we’ve all heard it before a million times) of Richie walking in and just immediately feeling overwhelmed and antsy on one side of the wall, leaning his forehead up against it as he forces a breath out through his nose, nervously tapping the side of his leg as he gets up the courage to ask for what he wants. then he’s spilling it all out, “Hey, before we start, I was just wondering if you’re cool if I call you you know - someone’s name?”

Eddie’s on the other side and his breath catches at the sound of the voice on the other side, cause even a little muffled, he recognizes it immediately. And before he can realize how utterly stupid it’d be of him to say anything, he’s breathing out, “R-?” tentative, luckily, enough that Richie steamrolls him.

“Look I get that that might seem kinda rude to ask. And hey, if you want, you can call me anything you want, regardless of whether or not you let me. Not that I’ll for sure be able to keep that under lock and key. I’m kinda whipped if you know what I mean. Like… fuck I thought. I thought I could just come waltzing in here and just - but fuck no. Of course not. It feels like I’m cheating on him and he wouldn’t even fucking care. More like he’d be disgusted I even thought about him but like - shit - I bet you’re two seconds from walking out. I get it. Like jesus dude just shut the fuck up and dick me already, right?” He takes in a breath and sighs, long-suffering, amused but sort of forlorn. “My friends don’t call me trashmouth for nothin’… God. What a turn off. Are you - even still there or like, did you just sneak off super quiet so the crazy asshole in 2B wouldn’t fuckin hear you?

I don’t blame you… This is it. I’m gonna fuckin die a virgin cause of my stupid mouth.”

He bangs his head against the wall, and finally shuts up, and despite the situation, and how he’s been reeling this whole time, trying to process - of everyone in the whole world Eddie could’ve gotten saddled with, it’s the stupid love of his life, and he can’t tell if this is the best or the worst thing that literally ever could’ve possibly happened to his feeble little mind.

On one hand, he already totally loathed himself for finally letting homophobia and pure desperation resort him to this - and it’s kinda nice now to know that not only could he skip the whole stranger danger portion of the filthy, disgusting, soul-wrenching night, but he’d also be with someone who’s potentially clean because this stupid fucking nerd on the other side is also a virgin, at least.

Then again, is it taking advantage to go ahead and let Richie fuck him anyway? But. like Richie DID come here for this, of his own volition. Eddie’s not holding a gun to his head here. and Richie’s the idiot not following the rules very well. Giving out what is technically personal information, even if most people wouldn’t take another second to think about that dumbass nickname he mentioned. Would probably get all horned up about a virgin anyways… deflowering… and all that bullshit.

So anyways, Eddie’s mind’s been busy, but as Richie’s head thuds against the wall, Eddie lets out a shaky breath and sinks in against the wall. Lets his knuckles wrap lightly at the thin plywood. Just gently letting Richie know that he hasn’t scared off his potential companion.

But Eddie knows he can’t speak.

He’s a little heartsick to have to hear about Richie’s crush, or whatever, but he’s also smirking gently at Richie’s beautiful and at the same time, horrible self-deprecation. The urge to agree, to say, ‘I’ve been telling you so (about Richie turning people off with his mouth) since the day we met…’ is there, right along with his hammering heart. But all he can do is bite into his lip and clench harder at the hoodie sleeve that’s hanging too long, and down into his sweaty palms.

Not to mention, come Monday at school, he’s gonna have a heck of a time looking Richie in the eyes… That, and not grilling him on this supposed crush. On the other hand… if he stays - if he doesn’t walk out of this room right now, he might hear who it is. Might hear Richie crying it out as he - fuck. Eddie’s throbbing all over, blood rushing in his ears.

“Holy shit. Look who’s word-vomit-tolerant… Thanks, pal. Or - heh - maybe you’re just as desperate as me. Sounds like you got the opposite of what I have… Quiet as a mouse probably doesn’t get you too intimate either, does it? I can talk enough for the both of us, don’t you worry. Do you still wanna like - do this or… are you just being polite? Knock once for the latter, twice if we’re good to go.”

Now Richie’s the one smirking, listening with a growing fondness for this stranger.

Eddie bites his lip even harder, but he closes his eyes, and knocks twice.

“Sick!” Richie whoops victoriously, smiling wide. “Okay so how’s about it? Help a lovesick slob out and let me pretend you’re Him?”

Eddie’s stomach churns but… he’s curious enough to ignore self-preservation. He knocks twice.

Besides… if it’ll make it better for Richie then. Well. Anyways, Richie’s not the only love-sick idiot around here. At the end of the day, fussing aside, Eddie’d pretend to be almost anything for Richie. As long as he didn’t have to fess up to it, that is. It’s kinda nice being able to anonymously donate to the Richie Self-esteem fund.

A part of him wants to start plotting a way to get Richie to agree to this regularly. If it goes well, of course. Eddie might be a terrible fuck…. Oh god, he hopes he’s not, but thank christ Richie’ll never know, even if he is.

“God… I owe you. Big time.” Richie actually manages to be quiet for a few moments, and it’s because suddenly the tension is real. Like. Really real. Walking into the room in the first place kinda sucks, but you had a whole walk or bike ride to process that. Being in the room? Fine. Scary, but fine. Actually getting to the real stuff? The cream at the center of the cookie? Well… that was a bigger step than either of them could actually prepare for.

“Uhm… so. Shit. After all that and I can’t seem to remember how to undo my zipper. You?”

Two knocks.

Richie grins, and laughs warmly. “Now that’s cute… I lucked the fuck out, didn’t I? Does it help you at all to know that I absolutely fucking promise to wear a condom? You can even have the reassurance that it’s part of the ~fantasy, or whatever for me. My - he. Well.” Richie sighs and somehow it’s a storm of adoration in such a gentle exhale.

Eddie’s chest is tightening at that though cause he kinda - does he get it? Richie’s crush is like… careful?

Like.

Like Eddie kinda?

There’s something kinda dreamy and super delusional pulling at Eddie’s pink, gummy brain. The quiet must be too much, cause then Richie’s talking again, and Eddie realizes he could’ve answered with a yes, but… oh well. Too personal maybe.

“Hey. Sorry. If you’re really nervous, we can just… well, god, surely you don’t wanna hear me talk more -”

Eddie does. And, whatever, Richie won’t know. He won’t know. Eddie knocks twice.

Richie feels himself flush. Not because he feels like an idiot, so much, anymore, but in a really pleasant way. “Oh. That -” he clears his throat.

And Eddie has to bite back a laugh. Cause of course the second someone actually encourages Richie to talk, is when the boy loses his gift of gab. Eddie seizes the moment of confidence this sweet knowledge bestows upon him. He begins unzipping his hoodie and he hears Richie suck in a sharp breath at the sound of the metal teeth clipping against the zip. Hot rolls over Eddie; he just fucking turned Richie Tozier on and he knows it.

The dumbass probably thinks it’s Eddie’s pants, but Eddie’ll take it. He’s warm enough under his skin, that he minds even less hanging his hoodie up on the little cheap-o hook nailed to the wall. Doesn’t wanna get it messy. He has to get home in it after all, and his mother’ll absolutely freak if god forbid she sees some kind of unidentifiable stain on it.

“I guess uhm - I guess you really are good to go, huh? I’ll. Condom. As promised.”

Even just that’s enough to be better than ten different fantasies Eddie’s assembled in his mind. Like, Richie is legitimately two seconds away from pulling himself out of his jeans and wrestling on a fucking - fuck - Eddie can’t believe his luck. Even if his heart breaks from this later, he’s gonna hold onto these moments when he had Richie like this, for himself.

He’s bent on listening to every little sound on the other side of the room, wanting to keep every moment of it for later, but he also doesn’t wanna keep Richie waiting - weird him out. So he’s slipping the button out of the hole in his jeans, as quietly as possible pulling down the zipper as well, and then nervously feeling around his pockets for the lube he’d put there, before remembering it’s in his hoodie cause the fit was too tight in his jeans.

He already stretched himself earlier, but… it’s his first time and he’s fucking nervous, okay? Sure, he’s found things to fuck himself on. Bottles of different sorts… but like, there’s no telling - Eddie’s brain buzzes again, almost overwhelmingly as it dawns on him again that this isn’t even just some stranger’s cock he’s having to figure out. But Richie’s - he’s gonna know what every fucking amazing inch of Richie’s cock feels like, no matter what size it is, after all his bragging, and Eddie can’t fUCKING wait.

Eddie fingers himself open again standing close to the hole but not close enough Rich would be able to see anything cause like theyr'e both shy as hell, but also eager, and eventually Richie’s laughing out loud and saying, “Fine, you win. I’ll go first.”

Richie bites his lip, and slides his covered cock through the hole and the moan catches in Eddie’s throat so hard it hurts.

“C'mon mouse… don’t leave a guy hanging…”

It ticks in Eddie’s heart as something that’s his, even though he feels extremely foolish for feeling sentiment about a nickname that Richie is essentially giving someone else entirely. But…

His stupid heart is even melting over the fact that Richie’s cock is all slicked up. Like, god, Eddie’s such a tool. Richie should have been prepared to take care of whoever but he’s just so proud of Richie for actually thinking about it. The fact that Richie even remembered to pull it off after thinking about it is enough to make Eddie think he deserves a golden trophy.

If only he could get Richie to be so considerate in situations that didn’t involve his cock…

Eddie was, actually, a little eager to have a reason to touch and - well… stroke Richie’s cock. Got lube all over his palm just for the occasion, rather than just his fingers for re-opening himself… but you know, the pride is overtaking the disappointment, and his hole is quick to remind him, with a little heart beat he can feel thrumming deep inside, that there are even better things Eddie gets to do with Richie tonight…

He clears his throat, and although it is one hundred percent awkward to do so, bravely takes Richie’s - hot - ohmygod - cock in his hand, and positions himself back onto it, before sliding down.

Nothing in the entire world could ever have prepared him for the orgasm his ears had when Richie moaned, and clenched his fingers, nails scraping against the wall, as Eddie sank back onto him.

At some point, after Eddie’s found that he has to really put his weight into the wall to stay upright, feet dug into the ground, jeans falling even lower on his thick, strained thighs… Well Richie must get comfortable enough to open his eyes, and what little of Eddie’s skin peeks through the hole has Richie whining out strangled - he’d managed to be fairly quiet (at least as far as actual words went) up until now - “Fuck - your skin.”

Now, Eddie has given up moving, letting Richie be in charge of thrusting in and out at his own pace, as the person with both the leverage and the ability to speak, since Eddie’s still undercover, after all. But somehow he still manages to pause, before Richie does. Unsure of what in the fuck that even means. Hoping it’s as good as it sounds on Richie’s tongue, but still like - what?

And then Richie’s stumbling over himself like, “Oh my fucking god wait! Not like. Not like - I just - sorry. You. Have his skin like - I don’t mean in some creepy 'he puts the lotion in the basket’ way! Just the tone!”

Then as Eddie’s biting back more laughs and shaking, undoubtedly actually clenching down around what little of Richie’s cock has been left inside of him, Richie’s groaning.

“I’m sure you just love Silence of the Lamb references during sex… Jesus.” He must feel though, after his brain is done stuttering over words, how Eddie’s not pulling away. Because then his voice goes softer with desperate relief. “Jesus … You. You really fucking - uh -” He’s fucking back in and Eddie’s laughter is ebbing away - no space left what with the hot tendrils curling back around all of his limbs and nerves again. “You really feel good. I - Like, fuck-I’m-surprised-I-haven’t-cum-already-good. I’m just sorry I can’t touch you. Are - are you touching yourself for me, mouse? Can you? Please?”

Why it makes Eddie melt and boil hot all at once that Richie’s pleading like a needy little boy - for Eddie to make himself feel good - well. Actually, it’s obvious why it hits Eddie’s buttons. Richie’s sweet. Eddie can’t fucking stand it.

He hasn’t been… Hasn’t been touching himself. Because he’s been too busy memorizing how Richie feels inside of him. Too busy holding onto his sanity for dear life.

Don’t fall in love so much harder that it kills you. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t. It’s just sex. It doesn’t mean anything that he feels fucking perfect holy shit I’m so screwed…

No.

He hasn’t been touching himself.

But he can’t… Can’t say no to such a soft request.

He nearly sobs as his fist falls down around his cock.

Eddie was already feeling so good. Whole and full and - unreal… So unreal that actually, tonight’s the most real Eddie has ever fucking felt.

And that’s the other thing. He didn’t wanna cum, and fuck it all up.

But Richie’s - and it feels so good.

It’s addicting, immediately.

Eddie’s shaking with it.

And Richie must be able to tell cause then he’s crooning, “Good boy,” through the wall, “Thank you, mousey.”

And Eddie’s heart is splintering into a million pieces.

He’s realizing that this is the future.

When they grow up a little more, and they all go to places where there’s actually someone who doesn’t know their name and their mother’s, and what they bought at the grocery store last week - this is how Richie’s gonna be with strangers.

And he’s charming and he’s soft.

And he’s gonna realize his worth, and how much Eddie could never give him, out of some sense of sick pride.

Because every single fucking person Richie meets is gonna fall in love with him.

They’re gonna tell Richie… EXACTLY what he’s been missing out on.

And how much bullshit his friends have told him.

How can Eddie possibly let that be what happens…?

Richie deserves the elation it’ll bring…

But. How can - how can Eddie just sit by and watch the resentment slowly build…? Leave all the good stuff for the strangers.

Would Richie even actually believe them?

And - that idea’s even worse.

What if he doesn’t…?

What if he thinks, 'Nah… if that were true, my friend Eddie woulda told me. You’re just foolin’ me.’

Either way. It’s - “Oh god, Eds. Fuck.”

The panic button gets hit so hard it nearly gets slammed right through the walls of Eddie’s brain.

He knows it’s me. What the fuck how did he - did I -

“Fuck, mouse, I’m sor- I told you I can’t - I’m so close oh my god. Please tell me you’re close. I swear I’m trying to be a gentleman here…!”

It’s way too much for Eddie to unpackage. But his cock is three steps ahead of him, and his hand, although a certain numbness is in his arms and legs, and central nervous system - his hand is working for the Neanderthal inside. Make cum, reproduce.

“Oh,” Richie says around a strained laugh. “Right. I’m asking my mouse like he can talk… I just. God I hope you feel as good as I do.”

Richie’s pounding into him. Chasing it, cause the world isn’t imploding around him, like it is with Eddie. And something about that fact. The fact that Richie’s still so desperate for this stranger to be with him, anchors Eddie at least enough to actually fucking enjoy when Richie stutters into him, bottoming out as he cums into the condom he so preciously promised to wear not just for his or the stranger’s sake, but because Eddie would’ve wanted him to.

Eddie’s panting against the wall, wringing his dick until he’s cumming too, and biting, and whining it out while Richie huffs out heavy breaths into the wall, still seated inside, mind blown. Eddie’s head is swimming, but he can still hear the relief in Richie’s voice as he says, “Oh mouse! Thank fuck. I couldn’t have considered myself successfully losing my virginity if you didn’t… Fuck. That little noise you made. I don’t know why you’re so quiet. You sound - perfect.”

Richie’s a sap after sex, it turns out… Or maybe it’s - jesus maybe it’s because Eddie sounded like Eddie and maybe that’d be the end of the world but also maybe it’d be amazing…

Eddie doesn’t know how else to praise Richie right back, like he deserves - doesn’t know how to keep from falling to the floor and sobbing, himself - than to knock twice and stiffly pull off, and away from the sticky wall. Tuck himself away and pull his shirt down, now that goosebumps are rising up, and his body’s acknowledging the cold air whipping against the sweat bubbled up on his skin.

Eddie almost just walks out. Forgetting his hoodie, even. Gets his hand on the doorknob, and pulls away the lock.

“Oh… Right. Bye, mouse…” Richie’s voice, sugar-coated sadness, clamps down on Eddie’s feet. And he turns. Obviously Richie’s not sticking crudely through the wall anymore. But logic isn’t really holding a space in Eddie’s brain anymore. This is beginning to feel like a disjointed nightmare.

He fucking knew it…

Richie’s his best friend. At the first sign of weakness, Eddie’s supposed to be able to gently cuff him on the shoulder and tell him things’ll be alright.

'Hey, so you just lost your virginity and it feels bigger than you thought it would, and lonely because of the way you decided to go about it, before you were truly ready, and at the end of the day that person you were pretending was on the receiving end wasn’t there to cuddle you through the monumental changes that ten years from now you’ll hardly remember…? I promise it’ll be alright. Cause you have me.’

Yeah.

Well Eddie can’t talk.

And he’s not even sure why cause like, technically Richie’d be happy about it right?

But technically, in Derry, nobody’s truly happy about anything…

Eddie walks back to the wall, grabbing his hoodie, and knocks once - gently. And he’s not sure if it’s cruel, or not, but he hopes it’s more reassuring than anything, that he’s kinda suggesting it’s not really goodbye.

At least for the moment, it seems like enough… Richie’s voice is slightly sturdier when he says, “Cute…” and sighs, “Thanks, again, mouse. I mean it.”

Two knocks.

And Eddie’s dying to stick what of his hand through the hole that he can, and let Richie hold tight for as long as he needs, but Richie’d recognize his hand, no question. Well, unless his doubts were strong enough to over-ride his knowledge. But… It’s too much of a risk.

It’s not really… much. In fact, it’s pretty stupid. But literally the only thing Eddie has on him is that stupid bottle of lube. And so he pulls it from the pocket of his hoodie again, and sticks it through the upper part of the hole, letting his hand be concealed by the wall and the shadows.

He clears his throat, and his heart leaps with joy at Richie’s surprised laugh.

“Aww… a memento! Lucky me…!” Then as the lube is slipping from Eddie’s fingers, into Richie’s grasp, Eddie’s being presented with the torn foil of Richie’s condom. He smiles tightly, taking it, and holding it in his grasp like it’s a precious flower. He’ll hang it to dry from twine, and eternalize the moment. Press it in a book, maybe… Eddie sighs softly, voice lilted happy. He hopes a generic enough noise not to cause any alert. “Wish you could give me a hint, mouse… Didn’t know anyone around here actually had a heart. Except my friends, o’ course.” Two more knocks. Eddie wishes he could. Wishes he could just walk around to the other door and pull Richie into a hug and tell him through his tears not to go to anymore strangers cause if it’s Eddie he wants, then all he has to do is ask…

But…

Well, he’s pretty sure that’s not allowed. For safety reasons.

It’s an informal looking little place, bordering on as disgusting as you’d expect. But, that’s just ambiance. Eddie noticed the bodyguards.

The security.

The many exits. And people being directed out one way or another.

At least until one hits the parking lot… privacy is a concern.

In fact, Eddie’s not sure whether to scurry out right away, or hang around until he’s given Richie enough time to leave, but the fact that he didn’t see Rich coming in is oddly comforting enough that he’s not panicked.

Or maybe it’s just the fact that there are bigger fish to fry, ultimately…

Eddie can say he got lost…

But can Eddie change? Can he be better? Can he give Richie what he needs, or is it already too late?

Has he broken Richie’s trust without even meaning to?

Will it be breaking his trust if Eddie keeps on being as quiet as a mouse. And never let’s Richie know he feels the same way?

“You get home safe, cutestuff… There’s a whole lotta hawks around these parts. They’ll eat your cute ass up. And not in the way I’d like to.”

And sure, of course, on top of it all, Richie has to go and give butterflies all over again.

Asshole.

Eddie admits to himself he’s frozen to the spot. Doesn’t know yet, what to do. So stays against the wall until Richie reluctantly huffs and unlatches the door. Says an adorable bye, yet again, and strolls out supposedly more of a man than he was before.

But Eddie’s sure they both know otherwise.

They’re both split apart now. In different ways.

In many ways…

Eddie finally wraps himself up a minute later, zipping his hoodie up, and letting himself meet a guiding hand - filing down his given pathway out.

He waits thirty minutes after he gets home to call Richie’s private landline - Mags and Went being well off, and their son being a little bit of a devil resulted in the birthday gift a few years ago. “Hey Rich… Was just thinking 'bout you. Hope I didn’t wake you up?” “Huh? Oh. No! You know me. Life of the party. One-man city that doesn’t sleep, over here.” “Yeah? You sound… far away.” “Mmm.” And Richie being too tired to even make a joke to counter the idea is so worrying; Eddie hates himself just a little more than usual. “Oh c'mon Eds, you know me, man. So sorry if my reading a comic book while talking to you isn’t showing the respect you deserve.You’re no king of paying attention, until it comes to band-aids clinging to a single arm hair!”

Eddie shakes his head, grateful and grossed out all the same, that Richie at least had enough wit to recognize Eddie’s silence as dangerous.

“You’re disgusting.”

“You wish. I’m the best thing you know, Edward Kaspbrak. Don’t wake up one day, and regret how fuckin’ much you pick on me.” - Richie’s joking. He does it a lot. Calls them out out loud. Hides the truth in plain sight.

Eddie feels sick about it, now.

“Yeah… Well maybe you are,” Eddie tells him, trying not to mumble. If he acts like he can’t actually say it, it’ll feel even more real than…

Well.

It’ll feel as real as it should. But Eddie’s - he’s still stuck.

So all he can do is also hide the truth in plain sight and hope Richie sees it. He knows Richie’s smart enough to.

But the question is whether or not he’ll be able to get passed his self-deprecation to believe it’s not some kinda trojan horse.

“Pfft! What the hell kinda meds did your mom feed you, now, Eds? Delirious much?” Richie’s discomfort is so tangible that Eddie’s blanching from it. “Call me thinkin about me and now maybe I’m the best thing you know. Jesus H. Christ, Eds, you gotta fever, man…”

Eddie swallows thickly, and sinks down under his covers more. “Mmm… Actually… Been thinking I might haveta miss school Monday. You’ll bring my home work if I don’t show?”

“Ah, hell. There it is. You just called with a Honey-Do list.

Sure, honey. I’ll bring you your homework if you’re too busy coughin up phlegm.”

Richie. I love you. - It’s right there. Heavy on his tongue. - Richie. Shut the fuck up. I’m fucking in love with you.

You really are the best thing I know.

“You don’t have to…” Eddie says, very very very quiet. Shameful.

It softens Richie instantaneously. Which makes Eddie feel even sicker.

“Eds……. As if. I got you, boo. You know I’m good for it.”

I know you’re good. You’re so good. The best.

“Well. It’d be nice to see you, anyhow. It’s okay if I miss an assignment or two, you know. Either way.”

Richie’s smirking into the phone. And finally a little something loosens in Eddie’s chest. “Awwww… Eddie-bear… I love you, too!”

Eddie rolls his eyes at the stupid name. But he’s smiling to himself. Helplessly. “You’re such an ass.”

“One fine ass, I hear.”

Eddie snorts. “Mhm… I’m sure.”

“I do, Eds! I got people on the outside. People you don’t even know about. They love me. Give me presents and everything!”

And Eddie’s flushing knowing exactly what Richie’s talking about. Stupid fuckin pocket-sized lube. Ugh. God. That’s the memory he’s given Richie for his first time.

“Oh I believe you, Jolly Green Giant. If I saw you coming out from the shadows of Derry, at night, I’d be throwing sacrifices at your feet, too.”

“So you think I’m God-like is what I’m hearing… Interesting, Eds. Am I the only deity you recognize? Are you monotheistic, or do I have brothers and sisters out there? Oh! Wait. Excuse me. I’m forgetting Big Bill exists. My bad. Poly, then…”

Eddie groans, but there’s a pleasant familiarity about this conversation that’s lulling him, whether he deserves it or not. “Yeah sure, if you wanna be someone people just try to appease, good for you…”

“Now that you mention it, I think I’m a little hurt there, buddy… Bill’s this god you worship, but me? You think people fear me? Just cause I tower over 'em? That’s a little cruel. And by the way you are so stinking wrong. He fuckin’ adored me… Wasn’t afraid at all.”

Eddie’s brow twitches, and his smile falters. Whoa. Did Richie mean to - “He who? Your lone 'fan’?”

“Oh. Fu - uuuck yeah, my fan. My fan-SUH. My fan-base is marginally male, so I just meant a general 'he’.”

“Rather than the much more natural-to-say 'they’,” Eddie says, amused, despite the faster beat of his heart.

“You wouldn’t understand how us Deities talk, Eds… Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry; I won’t.”

“Cute…”

Richie’s fondness is dripping from it, even though it’s supposed to be patronizing.

Eddie can hear it now. All of the sudden, and it makes him squirm.

“Richie.”

“Yeah?”

Eddie doesn’t know. Didn’t really mean to - fuck.

“What’s 'matter, kiddo? Fever?”

Eddie sighs, eyes dropping closed, and he clenches his toes, then takes a deep breath in. “I - uhm. Yeah, maybe.”

“Oh…” And Richie even sounds a little sad. Worried. “You need company, shorty?”

Yes. Eddie’s aching for him. That’s why he fucking called in the first place, even though he still doesn’t know what to fucking do. And Eddie did take a shower. Didn’t want to, honestly… Wanted to keep Richie on him. But… it was mostly the wall that was on him, anyways… His own grime. He had to. Had to wash it off. Pretend the hot tears on his cheeks were just from the shower spout.

“Can you manage to be quiet? Or is my mom gonna have to call the cops?”

“You offend me at every turn, sir. And yet my kindness knows no bounds. I’ll be over in a few. Unlock the window, please. The last fiasco wasn’t my fault.”

“Oh it most definitely was. You didn’t have an invitation that time, hence the lock. Breaking and entering is still possible even at your friend’s house, Rich.”

“Do you want company or not, Eds?”

It’s probably an empty threat, but Eddie’s feeling just sensitive enough not to argue any further. He gets up and let’s the latch fall open so that Richie can hear it through the phone. “Be over in a jiff,” Richie says, having the gall to sound proud and smiley. Make Eddie’s heart flutter with love and appreciation.

“Don’t hurt yourself on the way.”

Be safe. I love you. Can’t wait to see you.

A smirk, Eddie can tell, is on Richie’s face, “You’re so needy when you’re sick… You’ll have my face in your face in five, and I promise it’ll be in tact.”

“Thank you,” Eddie says, sincerely, accidentally.

“'Course, Eddie baby. Told you I got you.”

Eddie feels weird for missing 'mouse’ - since it wasn’t really even his. He keeps hoping to hear it. Kinda wants to get it tattooed on his inner arm, and see Richie balk and blush and maybe…

“I mean it, Richie. Thank you.”

“Eds…”

“See you soon.”

Eddie hangs up. Cause he’s a scaredy cat, and - maybe he can just be quiet… Maybe somehow Richie’ll get the hint.

Maybe Eddie can answer him in knocks.

Maybe he can accidentally leave out the book that he’s tucked Richie’s stupid condom foil into for safe-keeping.

Knock it off the side table and watch it flutter out like a confused butterfly.

Watch confusion also bloom over Richie’s face.

And then recognition.

And acceptance.

Maybe Eddie could kiss him, and tell him for real, how amazing he is.

Or maybe he can just wait for Richie to lie beside him and tell him how hot he doesn’t feel, how much he doesn’t think Eddie has a fever, and Eddie can say, 'Yeah, I’m not really sick… Just needed you.’

Maybe.

But that’d rely on Richie not being forcefully oblivious.

Maybe Eddie can lie beside him for the millionth time, and fall asleep, dreaming about loving Richie the right way. And keep it a dream.


End file.
